Breaking Point
by AstrophobicChick
Summary: Moriarty takes Lestrade, Sherlock, John, Molly, Anderson and Donovan and locks them away. Will they work together to escape? Or will they reach a breaking point and turn against one another? It's all a game after all.
1. Chapter 1

A/n: This idea came to me and now it wont leave.. I don't know how it's going to turn out but I want to give it a go.

Pairings: Johnlock, Anderstrade (Only friendship)

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock.

Warnings: Language.

Like with Desperation(My other fic) this will be angst.

* * *

They were in a room.

A room inside an old, derelict hospital to be precise.

"He said they would be here!"

Sherlock stared around the room, taking in everything, before turning back to Lestrade, "No one's been here in a while."

Lestrade cursed under his breath before turning to the others. He, Sherlock, John, Molly, Anderson and Donovan all came out here on his orders and now -

"So he lied?" John asked, leaning against one wall.

"It would seem so," Sherlock replied, "but why..?"

"Cause he likes playing games, maybe?"

Sherlock closed his eyes for a moment, "Yes.. he does, doesn't he? He loves playing games.."

Suddenly the door slammed shut and locked itself. John ran over and attempted to turn the handle but to no avail, the door was staying shut, for now.

Silence fell across the room.. The room itself wasn't large, and with six of them inside, it would soon get hot and uncomfortable. That's if they didn't die from lack of oxygen first.

"Can you smell that?" Molly wondered, wrinkling her nose slightly.

"Smell what?" Anderson stared at each of them in turn before moving towards Lestrade. "What?"

"Gas," Sherlock muttered, staring up at the ceiling now, "He's gassing us."

"He's going to _kill _us?"

Sherlock shook his head, "No.. It's sleeping gas."

The gas was colourless but the smell grew steadily stronger until - "Look out!"

Donovan was the first to fall, and John only just managed to catch her, before laying her on the floor gently. Everyone moved away from that spot - knowing that that must be where the gas was coming from - but they could only go so far before -

Molly fell next and Lestrade lunged for her just in time to stop her from hitting her head on the floor. He lay her next to Donovan and stood back.

His own eyes were starting to droop and he could feel himself falling when someone caught him and held onto him. He took one last look around the room and at Anderson before passing out.

* * *

Lestrade woke up to find himself in a cage.

He tried to stand but his legs wouldn't co-operate so he settled for sitting. The drug was still in his head, screaming at him to go back to sleep, but he ignored it. He wiped his eyes and looked around, his gaze landing on the others.

They were all there - apart from John and Anderson.

He heard a grunt and saw Sherlock rise slowly - before his legs gave out and he too settled for sitting. Lestrade crawled over to him, ignoring the rising panic, and sat beside him.

"What's going on?" He whispered, staring at Sherlock.

Sherlock didn't reply - Lestrade wasn't even sure if he heard him talk - instead his eyes rolled backwards slightly and he slumped to one side.

Someone had obviously given Sherlock something extra but he didn't know why. Feeling hopeless, he crawled over to Molly, who was curled into a tight ball in one corner. He checked her pulse and was relieved to find it was normal - She hadn't had extra drugs given to her.

Donovan was slumped against the bars, her head drooped at a strange angle and her hair fallen over her face. Lestrade crawled over to her, again checking the pulse and finding it to be completely normal.

He sat back and allowed his mind to assess the situation: Two missing, one drugged, three fine. What was going on and where were the others?

* * *

"I expect you're wondering why you're here."

John looked up. He was in another room - this time slightly larger, and he could see Anderson to his right. He tried to turn his head but found his movement limited. Looking down, he saw that he was chained to his chair with about five different chains. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Anderson was in the same situation.

He turned back to the voice, "No shit... This is how I spend every day.. Tied to a fucking chair."

"Now now, John.. Such language is not appreciated here."

"Oh, fuck you."

The next thing he knew, ice cold water was poured over his head, making him yelp out in shock. He shook his head furiously, attempting to dull the burning sensation, and gasped, "Dickhead."

"Now John, are you ever going to learn?"

John glared at the figure in the corner, but didn't reply.

"Good boy.. Now, if you want to get out alive, I want you to fight."

"Fight who?"

The voice laughed a soft laugh, and said, "Each other of course."

* * *

Lestrade was starting to panic now.

He had managed to stand up and was now pacing around the cage looking for a way out. There wasn't one. He couldn't even find the door. The bars were seamless.

Outside of the cage was a door but it had an electronic lock on it and was out of reach anyway. They were well and truly screwed. To make matters worse, no one else was awake, and the room was freezing. He knew the cold was keeping them asleep and hated whoever was doing this.

He should of known it was a trap, but he didn't. He was so eager to catch the bastard that he threw caution to the wind, and now, he felt like he was going to pay for it. Big time.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock

Warnings: Language.

* * *

"Fight."

John and Anderson looked at each other and shook their heads in unison. They didn't like each other, of course they didn't but that didn't mean they were going to _fight _each other for Moriarty's amusement.

"Not going to do it?"

"No," John growled, "So quit asking, you fucked up psychopath."

Moriarty stepped out of the shadows and smiled at John, "Fine," he nodded to someone behind them and John soon found himself being untied. A quick look to his right and he saw that Anderson was free too.

"Fine," he repeated, "Take them back."

* * *

Lestrade woke up to find himself somewhere new. He wasn't completely alone either - Sherlock sat on his left hand side looking bored. They were both tied up, with chains instead of rope, and left alone in a dingy room.

"Finally awake then," Sherlock drawled, "You've been out of it for hours, Lestrade."

Lestrade swivelled his head as much as possible to the left and glared at Sherlock, "How long have we been here?"

"Ten hours."

"What? How?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "They came in, carried us out, and tied us up here. Pretty simple logic, Lestrade, even for you."

Lestrade ignored the insult, "Why?"

"I can answer that," A voice soothed.

Moriarty walked towards them, his hands clasped behind his back, "Your boyfriends didn't co-operate."

Lestrade looked slightly confused, but Sherlock growled quietly, "John.. what did you do to him?"

"Apart from pouring ice cold water onto him? Nothing. Your boyfriend has terrible language, I don't know how you put up with it."

Lestrade shook his head slightly, "You took John and.. oh.. Is Anderson alright?"

"Yeah, _your _boyfriend is fine.. he kept his mouth shut."

Sherlock smirked, "Why are we here, Moriarty? You didn't bring us here for a chat."

"No, I brought you here as payback. Like I said, they didn't co-operate, so I'll have to get you instead."

He clicked his fingers and two men appeared carrying a silver platter each. One man stopped in front of Lestrade, the other in front of Sherlock. They lifted the lids - revealing two needles.

"You're probably wondering what's inside these." Moriarty said, beaming.

"Heroin?"

"Wrong. They contain a cocktail of drugs. Bit of this, bit of that. Not enough to kill you - but enough to seriously fuck you up for a while."

He clicked his fingers again, and the men picked up the needles, before throwing the platters to one side.

Sherlock raised his eyebrows, "So, you're going to drug us? That's not too bad, might make this experience better, and you less annoying."

Moriarty frowned slightly before smiling again, "No.. that's so obvious. God, you're dull. I'm going to drug you and then make you watch as I beat the shit out of your boyfriends."

"I don't get it," Lestrade said slowly, "Why drug us?"

"Because if you don't stop me, I'll kill them."

Sherlock shook his head slowly, "How are we going to stop you? We'll be out of it.. Oh.." He broke off, realizing, "You bastard."

"That's the game, Sherlock, isn't it fun?"

"Fun isn't the word I would use, no. Disturbing, insane, fucked up are more words I would use."

Moriarty pouted, "Aw, don't be like that, it'll be fun. Me and a few others have made a bet: Who will last longer, you or Mr Scotland Yard man." He flashed a smile at Lestrade before continuing, "I'm betting on you, Sherlock, after all you have done drugs before so you'll be more resilient."

He clicked his fingers a third time, "Inject them."

* * *

John was severely pissed off. He and Anderson were back with the others now, but something didn't feel right. The fact Sherlock and Lestrade were missing, for instance. He knew Moriarty had them, and probably torturing them, and he knew it was his fault.

Anderson was sat against the bars, rocking slightly. Donovan tried to comfort him but he kept shrugging her off, moving away ever so slightly, so that she finally gave up and went back to sitting with Molly.

"Where did they take you then?" Molly said, shivering slightly. The room was still pretty cold.

"To another room, they wanted us to fight each other."

"Have you seen Lestrade?" Anderson cut in.

Molly shook her head slowly, "No.. we've only just woken up when you arrived."

* * *

Greg felt amazing. He really did.

Whatever they put in those needles made everything so much better. He felt as high as a kite and didn't have a care in the world.

Sherlock on the other hand looked angry, his eyes were narrowed and his teeth bared. If he wasn't tied up Greg was sure he would of attacked Moriarty by now.

Someone grabbed Greg by the shoulder and pulled him up roughly. He hadn't even noticed the chains being removed, or perhaps he just didn't care. It was hard to think properly at the moment and all he wanted to do was dance around. He saw Sherlock getting dragged through a doorway and followed, skipping slightly as he went.

They were taken back into the cage room and Greg's face broke into a smile when he caught sight of the others.

"Hi guys," he said cheerfully, stumbling slightly as he walked towards the cage.

Anderson looked back at him, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and confusion. The others just looked confused.

"They've drugged us," Sherlock slurred, leaning against the wall for support. His legs were visibly shaking and his head kept drooping forward.

"Oh, you're very resilient," Moriarty said, making everyone jump, "I knew I was right to bet on you."

He walked towards the cage, the two men following close behind, and muttered, "Take them out."

One of the men pressed a button hidden in the wall and two of the bars slid up, leaving a big enough gap to pull out John and Anderson. He pressed the button again and the bars slid back down silently.

Without warning, the second man pushed John with enough force that he flew backwards and hit the wall with a resounding crack. He slid down and lay at the bottom unconscious.

"No!" Sherlock cried, pushing himself away from the wall and stumbling across the room to where John lay.

A part of Greg's brain was still functioning and he knew what was about happen. He lunged across the room and grabbed Anderson before wrapping his arms around the younger man and pulling him close.

"Y-you're not h-hurting him," He stammered, turning them so that he was facing Moriarty, "I-I won't let you."

The drug kicked back in and he dropped his head onto Anderson's shoulder, his breathing now choppy. He saw a man head towards them and tightened his grip. He shuffled back slowly until his back hit the wall and then he turned them again so that he was in between Anderson and Moriarty.

He pulled back slightly, gave Anderson an "It will be ok" look, and turned his back on him to glare at Moriarty.

"You'll have to get through me first," he snarled.

Moriarty smiled and clicked his fingers again, "Fine."


	3. Chapter 3

A/n: I won't lie, I put off writing this chapter because two of my favorite people are going to get the shit kicked out of them and I didn't want to write that. But oh well, I'm in the right sort of mood for it now.

Warnings: Language, Violence, bit of blood.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock.

* * *

Both men walked towards Greg. One of them pulled out a knife, the other a needle filled with clear liquid. He stood as still as possible, his head swaying and his heart beating rapidly. He couldn't take them out, but he had to try. He was just about to open his mouth, when the next part of the drug kicked in and he fell to the floor. His body numbed up and he couldn't feel anything, just a dull thud of fear.

"Lestrade! Greg!"

Greg could hear Anderson's voice clearly, and he wanted nothing more than to reply but he couldn't. He could barely blink and his eyes were starting to sting. The men kept coming, their eyes lit up in glee, and when the first man reached them he kicked Greg to one side. He kicked him hard, but still Greg felt nothing. This drug had one bonus at least.

His happiness was short lived however when he heard Anderson cry out in pain. His friend was getting tortured and he couldn't do anything about it. His back was to them so he couldn't see exactly what was happening but by the sounds of Anderson's screams, it wasn't pretty.

He saw Sherlock, his eyes wide with fear, sat to one side of John and he tried to pass him a message, _Save him, please, save him. _Sherlock's eyes dropped to his and he nodded slightly, before slowly getting to his feet. He stumbled past Greg and murmured something before launching at one of the men. Next thing Greg knew, Sherlock was lying face down at the other end of the room.

He was slowly getting feeling back into his body and he rolled other to find a scene of horror in front of him. Anderson was covered in blood and had several large gashes down his front. His head was hanging limply to one side and Greg wasn't even sure that he was still alive. The man with the knife held it up, right in front of Anderson's heart, and Greg moved.

He launched himself at the mans leg and bit down hard, causing the man to yell out in pain and turn his attention from Anderson. He kicked Greg in the face, breaking his nose, and then pulled him to his feet.

"You'll regret that," The man snarled, now holding the knife at Greg's throat.

Greg wasn't listening. His adrenaline was racing through him and he lifted his knee into the mans crotch, hitting the target hard. The man let out an oof of pain and slumped to the floor, dropping the knife. Greg bent down and picked it up before turning towards the man with the needle.

"Think I'm scared of that?" The man sneered, and before Greg could do anything, he stabbed the needle into Anderson's neck.

* * *

John woke up to find the room in turmoil. Sherlock was face down on the floor, Anderson was covered in blood, Greg was barely standing, Molly and Donovan were sat in the cage unable to look away.

Something hit him from one side and he turned to see that it was Anderson's body. Turning back to Greg, he saw that the man was pale white and shaking violently. He watched as he lunged for the man with the needle, stabbing him over and over before the room was one big blood bath.

John jumped up and ran over to Sherlock, grabbing his hand and checking whether or not there was a pulse. There was, thank god. He turned the man over and felt tears run down his eyes, Sherlock's eyes were glazed over and he wasn't going to regain consciousness anytime soon.

He gave Sherlock a quick kiss on the cheek before joining Greg, who was now sat against the wall, Anderson in his arms. He picked up Anderson's wrist and checked his pulse.

"Greg, he's - still alive," He said quietly, "Barely though."

Greg looked at him, his eyes full of defeat and nodded slightly, before tightening his grip on Anderson. John sat next to him and surveyed the room. Everyone was covered in blood, both men were lying motionless and Moriarty was gone.

He looked at Greg, who was now silently crying, and sighed. He didn't know what to do or say, what could be said? Deciding to give them some privacy, he stood up and walked over to Sherlock before pulling him into his arms.

He heard ragged sobbing and looked over to see Molly and Donovan holding each other. They had to witness everything, and couldn't do anything about it.

He turned back to Sherlock and carefully stroked the mans hair.

* * *

Greg felt like shit.

He had failed and now Anderson was paying the price. He hadn't moved from his place against the wall in hours, and didn't dare to. He could see John mirroring his actions on the other side of the room, Sherlock still not moving, and made up his mind. They had to get out, now.

Moriarty had left, but for how long? He could be back in minutes, he could be watching right even, but what other choice did he have? He, Sherlock, John and Anderson needed medical care desperately.

Something felt wrong.

It seemed too easy, Greg even knew how to unlock the cage. He shuffled Anderson onto the floor and stood up. He ran one hand along the wall before finding a slight dip. Digging his nails in, he opened up the small panel and pressed the button.

"Greg!"

Greg spun round, ready to fight any threat, only to be faced with an empty room. He looked over at the cage and saw that the bars had lifted. Molly and Donovan ran out, Molly lunging at him and Donovan going over to Anderson.

"We need to get out, Molly," He said, hugging her back and feeling slightly better. They all had each other now, that was the main thing.

"How?" Molly replied, staring around the room, "There's no way out."

"There must be another panel, or something, that will open the door."

Molly nodded and ran over to the far wall, running her hand over it slowly.

Greg turned to John, "Will you be able to carry him?"

"Sure," John nodded, standing up and pulling Sherlock into his arms.

"Good," He walked over to Anderson and scooped him into his arms before turning to Donovan, "It will ok, don't worry."

She stared back at him and he could see in her eyes that she didn't believe him. He didn't even believe him.

"Greg! I found something."

Greg jumped a little and turned to Molly, who had found another small panel. He walked over to her and saw that there were three buttons; Blue, Red, and White.

"It's another game, isn't it?" She whispered.

Greg grit his teeth, Sherlock would know what to do but he was currently unconscious. He looked at the buttons, then at Molly, then back to the buttons.

"I have no idea," he admitted, "Just going to have to guess."

"I trust you," Molly said quietly, backing away slightly to give him space.

Greg took a deep breath, looked around the room at the others, kissed Anderson on the head, and then pressed the white button.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock.

The door slid open, revealing a deserted corridor. Plastic chairs lined either side and at the far end was another door. The air was cold and Greg felt himself shudder violently.

"Something feels off," Molly whispered, peeking around Greg at the corridor.

"One of us should walk in first and see if anything happens," John said, nudging Greg out of the way.

"Off you go then," Greg replied, standing back.

John rolled his eyes before walking into the corridor, Sherlock still in his arms. The others held their breath, just waiting for something bad to happen, but it never did.

"Well that was a letdown," Donovan sighed.

Greg ignored them all and made his way to the second door. He could hear the others follow close behind him and was secretly glad he wasn't dealing with this alone.

A note was tacked to the door.

_Ahead lies a nightmare. For one of you at least._

_Six of you go in, five of you come out._

_Ditch the loser to proceed, or die together._

"Another of his games, I presume?" Greg asked, turning to John.

"Looks like it."

Sighing, Greg turned to the others, "We can either go back to the main room and wait it out, or carry on through this door and face whatever lies ahead. What do you think?"

"I say we go ahead, as long as we promise not to leave each other behind," Molly said quietly.

Greg nodded and pushed the button, causing the door to flick open. Hesitantly he stepped inside, closely followed by Molly, John and Donovan.

All was quiet until - _BANG_

The ceiling opened, dropping thousands upon thousands of spiders onto them all. Greg dropped Anderson in surprise and stared around at the others. John was kicking out in random directions, Donovan was hiding in one corner and Molly was running around the room screaming.

Spiders were everywhere... And they were huge. Greg kicked away as many as he could but more soon took their place. A door on the other side of the room opened up and he scooped Anderson up before running through it. Turning back he saw that only John had followed him out into the new corridor.

"Molly and Donovan are still in there!" John gasped, laying Sherlock onto the ground.

Greg laid Anderson next to Sherlock and stared back into the room, "I'm going back in. Try and stop the spiders from coming in here, ok?"

He waited until John nodded and then made his way back inside the room. His skin was crawling and he spun around expecting to see spiders on him. None were, but it didn't stop the crawling sensation. Donovan was closer so he went to her first, kicking away any spiders that got into his path. One ran up his trouser leg and he screamed, rolling around on the floor in an attempt to get it out.

He was lucky in a way, he grew up on a farm in the country, so was used to spiders. But that didn't mean he _liked _them, especially when they were this big and this many. His whole body was screaming at him to get the hell out of there but the sight of Donovan, lying on the floor covered in spiders, made him carry on.

He grabbed her hand, yanking her up and nearly dropped her in shock. Her face was covered in little bite marks and it had already begun to swell up. She also seemed to be half conscious and kept laughing weakly.

"Sally! Wake up," he whispered desperately.

"G-Greg?" She slurred, before slumping forwards.

Catching her, Greg chucked her over his shoulder and ran out of the room.

* * *

Molly was scared. Really scared.

She was currently backed into a corner, her eyes fixed on the spiders before her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Greg run in and called out for him. He ignored her, instead turning to Donovan.

A moment later, he ran back out, Donovan over his shoulder. Now Molly was totally alone.

The scuttling sound was starting to make her feel sick, and she shuddered, trying hard not to think about spiders crawling all over her.

"Molly!"

She looked up to see Greg heading towards her, his hand held out. She wanted to take it, she really did, but she couldn't. Her body locked up and all she could see were the spiders slowly advancing towards her.

"Molly!" Greg was right in front of her now, his silver hair stuck to his forehead, "We need to go, now!"

"I- I can't, go on without me," She shrunk away from his hand, "Make it stop, Greg, please."

"I'm not leaving you!" He growled, grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the door. She could feel the spiders brush against her feet and stopped walking.

"I can't... I just can't," She sniffed, closing her eyes, "Just go."

The next thing she knew, she was being lifted up and the scuttling disappeared. She felt her feet touch the floor and slowly opened her eyes. She was in the hallway and there were no spiders. The door leading to that room was sealed shut and she fell back against the wall in relief.

* * *

Greg was sat on the floor next to Sherlock trying to get his breath back, when he heard John call his name.

"Greg?"

He looked up at John, "What is it?"

John pointed to an envelope at the far end of the hallway. Greg could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. _That wasn't there before, _he thought. Standing up, he walked over and picked up the envelope. It was light purple with handwritten writing on the front. He recongized the writing, but couldn't put his finger on it.

John walked up to him, staring down at the envelope, "That's Mrs Hudson's writing."

Greg stared at him quickly before tearing the envelope open and pulling out the contents. There was a letter and some newspaper clippings. He handed the letter to John and turned to the clippings. One of them was dated today, the other the day before and the last one was dated for tomorrow.

He stared at the one dated today and felt his stomach drop.

_Fake genius and his boyfriend on the loose after killing spree._

_Fake genius Sherlock Holmes and his boyfriend, Gregory Lestrade, have become London's most wanted after recently killing their friends; Molly Hooper, Sally Donovan and John Watson. Scotland Yard are asking for any information on these killings and would like any witnesses to come forward. _

Greg swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry, and turned to the next clipping.

_Fake genius and boyfriend in apparent suicides. _

_Sherlock Holmes and Gregory Lestrade were found this morning next to the Thames after apparently taking an overdose together. No other marks were found on them._

_If you have any information, please contact Scotland Yard. _

That clipping was dated for tomorrow. Greg swallowed again, not wanting to read the last clipping. Instead he turned to John who was still reading the letter.

"What does it say?" he said quietly.

John shook his head and passed the letter to him.

_Tut tut Greggers. _

_You could of had freedom, but you failed. If you had left her behind, you would have been free. But you chose her and must now live with the consequences. London hates you, you'd have to move away and start a new life. Maybe you'd prefer death after all?_

_The game is being upped, soon you'll have to choose between your life and your friends. Would they save you if the roles were reversed, or would they run? ... I have dirt on your friends, Greg, I know stuff about them. _

_For example, Donovan told your ex wife that you didn't love her anymore and that you swung the other way. She also told your kids that you thought of them as a mistake. Don't believe me? Look at her, the guilt is written so clearly. _

_Sherlock has a thing for you, and it drives John mad. You can see it in his eyes. _

_Don't even get me started on Anderson, but he seems to be on very friendly terms with your ex. Very friendly indeed. _

_Go through the door, Greg._

Greg stopped reading and stared around at everyone, his mind thinking fast. Was it true?


End file.
